


Prompt: R.I.P.

by xlivvielockex



Category: Fast & Furious (2009), Fast & Furious 6 (2013), Fast Five (2011), Fast and the Furious Series, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (2006)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlivvielockex/pseuds/xlivvielockex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you can believe a car can jump between high rise buildings, you can believe characters can come back from the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt: R.I.P.

Giselle can’t blame the team for leaving her behind. If they could see past the flaming wreckage of Shaw’s plane, peer into the darkness, her unconscious body looked worse for wear. When she fell, no amount of rolling could stop the road from biting into her skin and leaving her torn and bloodied. At least now she had some idea why bikers wore leather. The blow to the head from impact was enough to knock her out. Days later, when she woke in the hospital, she could forgive them all for the mad scramble that must have occurred when the sirens sounded, no doubt drawn by the gun shots, high speed airfield chase, and lastly the burning shell of that huge plane.

They told her that she had been out for three days and her wrist shackled to the frame of the bed was a precaution. There were questions to be asked since she was the sole conscious witness. The doctors flooded her with antibiotics, the nurses wheeling huge pieces of equipment in to check her head injury. Her body would heal, that was superficial, it was her heart she was worried about. It was a strange sensation, the pang, the pining. It was unfamiliar and frankly, unpleasant at first. Her ring finger throbbed and pulse, more insistent than the healing head wound and road rash.

She had never been one for hysterics so rather than rage and surge against the concerned doctors and nurses flooding into her room at all hours, she waited. She was good at that, finding that key moment when the weaknesses showed. She could call Hobbs, get these cuffs off with one phone call, but that really was no fun. All it took was one tired night nurse, a hairpin stolen when vitals were taken, and a jump from a five story hospital window. After what she went through, that was the easiest part.

Hotwiring the car that belonged to one of the more handsy physicians seemed like just punishment. It wasn’t until the lights of London were in her rear view that she pulled over. She had no plan. Just ideas. She knew Han, knew him down to his bones. They had settled down, in their own way, on her terms. Scratching at that damned finger and then her palm, she knew there was one place she had to get to. Tokyo.

 

Han can’t blame Sean for leaving him behind. All Sean could see was his body, trapped in the wreckage of his car, which blew to bits moments later. There were only seconds between when he freed himself, pulling his body out the other side of the twisted metal shell and the explosion. It was enough to send him flying, his body not escaping the red hot heat or the shrapnel. Sean and the rest of the illegal street racers would have to flee as soon as the police finally caught up to them. The lights flashing hurt his eyes, his face and side seeming to pulsate in time with the lights. The last thing he knew was the calm washing over him, knowing it was finally over, that he’d finally see Giselle again.

He saw here there, light around her so blinding that he had to squint, one hand on the shift, the other lazily on the steering wheel. He had no idea where they were going, where they had been, how much time had passed. It was all so bright so that all he could make out was her. Red light throbbed on the edges of the vision, noises muffled and silenced by the roar of the engine. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to. He would ride this road forever with her.

The doctors never had a chance to tell him they would need to put him into a medical coma to keep his body from slipping into shock or that it would take numerous surgeries and grafts to fix the damage the explosion had caused. They never had the chance to tell him that it was a miracle that he survived. None of the doctors in the ICU or burn unit had never heard of anyone surviving the kind of wreck and explosion he had. A broken arm, shattered ribs, punctured lung, it was nothing compared to the second and third degree burns that ran down his side.

Three weeks and an experimental procedure later, Han woke not in a hospital but in a bedroom. Giselle was sitting on the edge of his bed, bathed in light, so bright that it hurt when he opened his uncovered eye. It was just another dream, just like the ones before. The ones of her in a car, on the beach, in every city on the map. For once the dream didn’t come with the tinges of red, with the muffled noises.

“Han?” Giselle’s voice was soft. It was the first time she spoke in any of these visions. “You have to stay still. The drugs they gave you, they are wearing off.”

For the first time he was aware, on the edges of his consciousness, of pain. Red and throbbing, dull and constant behind his eyelids. The top of his hand itched where the IV was and his whole body felt heavy and thick.

Han wanted to speak, to ask her if this was real or just another coma induced dream. Desperate, he had to know how she survived the fall. He wanted to beg her to stay, to never leave again. But his mouth only gaped slightly, the pain of movement causing him to wince. At once he felt her hand, warm and solid, gently on his chest. It was enough. It was real.

 

 


End file.
